


A Bond of Brothers

by Disasteriffic_Kaz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:46:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1475314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Disasteriffic_Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester boys find an old legend and danger on the Salton Sea. Stand-Alone hunt set Post 2x15 "Tall Tales"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: Unlike most of my stories which I have the general plot for first and then pick a location, this one started with the location and then the story so, we'll see how this turns out. LOL The Salton Sea just caught my imagination though and begged for a nice, creepy story to be set there.
> 
> WINNER Author's Note 2012 for Best Suspense! Supernatural
> 
> Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P

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_**CHAPTER 1** _

Bobby watched Dean scouring imaginary rust from the chassis of the Impala and sighed, shaking his head. Fixing the car and keeping it in perfect condition seemed to be the thing he was holding on to hardest these days since their Dad had died. Bobby understood. It was the one thing he felt he still had control over and who could blame the kid.

"Dean." Bobby called his name and smiled when Dean slid out from beneath the car. "Think I got a job for you boys."

"You think?" Dean stood, wiping his hands on a rag that hadn't been cleaned in far too long.

"Don't smart at me, boy." Bobby growled and handed the handful of newspaper clippings he'd brought out to him as Dean smirked. "Been some tourists goin' missing out west. Salton Sea. Ever heard of it?"

"Driven by it a few times." Dean shrugged and glanced at the faces of the missing on the pages Bobby had given him. "Dad used to say it was one place you'd never find a ghost." He gave a pained laugh. "Too much natural salt around."

Bobby nodded. "He's right about that. Demon free too I'd bet. Now, I aint sure exactly what's happenin' to those folk but my nose says it's our kinda thing."

"Well, far be it from me to argue with your nose." Dean said and gave a lopsided smile at Bobby as he headed past him to the house.

"Smart ass." Bobby followed him with a long suffering laugh. "I already showed Sam."

"Awesome." Dean jogged up the steps to the house. "He's probably got the life history of the place already mapped out for us."

Bobby snorted a laugh as they entered the house knowing he was likely right. Sure enough when they entered Bobby's living room Sam was bent over the computer with a stack of newly printed papers beside him. The youngest Winchester looked up with a smile.

"Guys, this place has one hell of a history." Sam said and then looked on quizzically when both men chuckled. "What?"

Dean waved a hand and leaned on the desk. "Nothin'. Whatcha got, geek boy?"

Sam ignored the jibe and sat back, picking up the papers he'd stacked in front of him. "Salton Sea was actually formed by mistake."

"Wait, how do you accidentally make a whole damn Sea?" Dean asked in surprise and took the beer Bobby handed to him.

"Couple guys back in 1905 tried to steal water from the Colorado River and ended up flooding the salt plane instead. There was an Indian reservation there and a small city as well, all under water now."

"Indians?" Dean's brows went up. "So, maybe some weird tribal thing's snatching people up."

"Gotta be a reason though." Bobby went around the desk to stand over Sam and look at the computer screen. "If it is a creature of some kind, they don't just start killin' for no reason."

"I don't know if it is a creature yet." Sam shook his head. "The articles are real thin on details other than close to a dozen tourists having gone missing over the last year, bodies never found and all their personal effects and cars left behind. Could just be a serial killer or something you know?" Sam looked up at Bobby but the older man was shaking his head.

"Naw it's hinky. I'm sure of it." Bobby took a long pull from his beer. "You boys should go check it out. I'll keep diggin' here and see what I come up with."

"Bobby?" Dean set his now empty beer on the corner of the desk and looked at him with a crooked smile. "You tryin' to get rid of us? What, you got a hot date or something?"

"Could be I'm getting tired of all this brotherly love crap you two idjits got goin' on since the Trickster." Bobby gave an exaggerated shudder. "Startin' to miss the old days with the yellin' and the fightin'."

Sam laughed and stood, punching Bobby's shoulder lightly before looking at Dean. "I think he just misses having a reason to knock us upside our heads."

"Startin' to feel a reason comin' on right now, boy." Bobby growled at Sam who ducked away with a chuckle, following Dean out and to the stairs. "Idjits." He muttered fondly after them.

"Heard that!" Dean called from the stairs and Bobby groaned, slapping his head into his hand.

Sam followed Dean upstairs laughing softly. "You keep teasing him he's gonna change the locks before we get back." Dean said nothing, just snorting in good humor. Bobby was right in that they'd been a little less at odds with each other since Ohio. Sam was sure it wouldn't last, they were too much alike in so many ways and sooner or later they'd butt heads again. In the meantime, he enjoyed the respite of actually seeing Dean smile and mean it.

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"Come on, Jay!" Pete called and turned back to see his new wife slogging through the hot sand and dead weeds a few yards behind him.

"You know…" Jay stopped to wipe sweat from her face as the midday sun beat down on them. "This is not…how I pictured our honeymoon!" She pushed wet, blonde hair off her forehead and scowled at her husband. He'd stripped to the waist and the expanse of well-muscled chest reminded her of one of the many reasons she'd married him. She felt her mouth quirk up in a smile despite the oppressive heat and trudged on to catch up to him. "Don't know why you wanted to stop here."

"Never been here before." Pete said and shrugged with a grin. He pulled his camera from his back pocket. "Salton Sea's supposed to make for some awesome pictures."

"Right." Jay glanced around at the sands, dead scrub grass and what she was pretty sure were fish bones she was walking through and groaned. "Very photogenic."

"Right? Totally!" Pete waved her on. "Beach should be just over that rise." He waved behind him. "Hurry up." He knew he was testing her patience but he just couldn't resist the opportunity to shoot a place as cool as Salton Sea. He frowned when she stopped again. "Jay, seriously, we'll be here all day if you don't keep walking."

"The ground moved." Jay said; her voice unsure and looked down in surprise as the sands shifted lightly over her feet.

"Probably just a little tremor." Pete said reassuringly though he had felt nothing. "They happen a lot around here from what I've read."

"Didn't feel like a tremor." She called back.

"Come on. It's already passed." Pete looked over his shoulder, wanting to get a look at the lake. "We'll be perfectly safe." He looked back and then jerked in surprise. "Jay?" She had disappeared. "Honey, what…?" He whipped his head back and forth and jogged to where she'd last been standing. There was literally nowhere for her to have gone that he couldn't see. "Jay!" He shouted and stopped when he felt a rumbling beneath his feet. He looked down as the sands vibrated, feeling himself beginning to sink. Pete stumbled back and tugged his feet free. "What the hell is going on?" He backed up again and shouted in fear as the sands pulled at him again. A muted roaring sound came from beneath him and he took a last look up into the clear blue sky, feeling the sun beating mercilessly down on his face before he was pulled from sight.

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Sam veered off the interstate into Cedar City Utah with bleary eyes, squinting to bring the signs into focus. Dean was in the passenger seat, head back and snoring softly for the last several hours. He knew Dean wanted to drive straight through but a day and a half on the road from Bobby's and Sam was done. They both were. They needed actual sleep in a bed rather than short shifts taken in the car when they still had a day's worth of driving ahead. Three in the morning and the town was quiet. He didn't bother being picky, just stopping at the first Motel he came across.

"Wha's goin' on?" Dean mumbled sleepily as the Impala came to a stop, the engine quieting.

"Sleep." Sam said firmly. "Before one of us ties the car around a mile marker. Back in a sec."

"Woos." Dean scowled at him but couldn't argue with the logic. Though he was awake, sleep was still pulling at his eyelids. He felt them drooping even as Sam got back in the car. "I'm 'wake."

Sam chuckled. "Uh huh." He pulled around the side of the motel and parked beside their room. "Wake up, sunshine." He nudged Dean and ducked the elbow sent his way. They both got out and got their bags from the trunk in a fog, stumbling in to the darkened room. Sam pulled the canister of salt from one of the bags and it took him a full second to blink his eyes back open and realize Dean had taken it from his hand.

"Geez man." Dean chuckled and pushed him toward the far bed. "I got this."

Sam managed only a relieved grunt as he flopped face first on the bed, closed his eyes and blissfully drifted off to sleep while Dean poured salt lines at the door and window. Since they had found Ava missing and evidence she had been taken by Demons, they were taking no chances. He glanced over at his brother, snoring softly into his pillow and swallowed the worry that was now ever present. There we just too many questions and too many dire warnings for him to ignore that something bad was coming for Sam. Dean tossed the salt can back into the bag, flipped off the light and stretched out on his bed. He slid his favorite knife beneath his pillow and silently vowed that whatever big bad wanted Sam was going to come through him first.

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Dean woke early, having gotten a few more hours than Sam in the car and groaned as his stomach rumbled loud enough to be heard. He rolled off the bed with a glance at Sam, still sleeping soundly and rolled his eyes. He was definitely too hungry to wait for sleeping beauty to wake up. He scribbled a quick note on the hotel stationary that he was sure Sam wouldn't wake up to see. He made a quick stop in the bathroom to brush his fuzzy teeth and then went outside into the morning heat. It slapped him in the face as he closed the motel room door.

"Awesome." Dean said as he felt sweat instantly spring out on his face. He looked around, something he hadn't been awake enough to do last night and smiled seeing a donut shop less than a block down the street. "Breakfast of champions." He decided against walking, opting instead for cranking the Impala's air conditioning for the short drive. He sighed in relief as cool air blew across his face for the short drive. Dean left the engine running as he got out and jogged into the shop, looking forward to the frosty interior that would be waiting for him.

"Good morning, sir!" A bright eyed, blonde teenage girl called from behind the counter. Dean gave her a short wave and turned his attention to the display of delectable donuts awaiting him with a happy sigh. "What can I get you this morning?"

Dean perused the choices, practically drooling and smiled. "Two large coffees and I'm gonna need a dozen." He cheerfully pointed and picked among the confections and snagged one from the box before the clerk could get it closed. She smirked at him and bent to pouring out coffees while Dean dumped handfuls of sugar and creamer in a little bag.

"You passing through?" The Clerk asked conversationally with a smile. "We get a lot of tourists through here on their way to Cali and Mexico and stuff."

"Hmmph." Dean nodded and hastily swallowed. "Heading to Salton Sea. Know anything about it?"

"Oh yeah." She grinned and set the first coffee on the counter. "My granddad actually worked at the resort there back in the sixties when it was still, you know, around."

"Yeah?" Dean raised a brow. "He ever see anything….weird?"

She cocked her head at him. "Weird how?"

Dean shrugged. "Just curious. We've heard stories you know, ghosts and monsters and stuff."

She laughed. "Oh those. They're just stories to scare tourists. No offense."

"Right." Dean smiled and pulled a few bills from his pocket, tossing them on the counter. "So what kind of stories are we talkin' about?"

"Oh my gosh!" The girl shifted to peer over Dean's shoulder, her eyes widening in surprise. "Is the Motel on fire? Oh my god!" She scrambled with the phone, hastily dialing 911 as Dean turned in slow motion, dread falling into the pit of his stomach. Sure enough, as he looked out the window, over the Impala, the Motel he had left his brother in was quickly vanishing in a wall of flames.

"No. No, no." Dean sprinted from the shop. He left the Impala where it was and ran to the Motel. The flames had reached the room next to theirs, biting and jumping over the dry roofing with a roaring crackle. "Sam!" Dean shouted as he reached the building. He raised an arm as he reached their door to protect his face from the searing heat and kicked the door in. "Sammy!" Smoke filled the room and he was forced to drop to his knees to see beneath it. The ceiling above him was pouring smoke, little licks of fire beginning to peak through as the roof burned and the wall beside Sam's bed was a wall of red. "SAM!"

"Dean!" Sam's voice came hoarsely, coughing and Dean could vaguely see the shadow that had to be his brother roll from his bed to thump onto the floor.

"Hang on!" Dean crawled across the room and reached out, snapping a hand around one of Sam's arms. He pulled him forward, pushing to keep his little brother's head down. "Stay with me." Dean back pedaled, crawling back the way he'd come. He snagged their bags from the table on his way past and threw them out the door that was now wreathed in flames. "Come on!" Dean reached back and felt Sam's hand slap into his arm. He grabbed the sleeve and pulled his brother after him.

It was one of the longest minutes of Sam's life, crawling behind his brother, choking on smoke while fire burned just above his head. Dean's shout had woken him in time to feel the heat from the fiery wall beside him and the smoke he'd been breathing for who knew how long. He'd rolled in a panic off the bed, beating the tendrils of flame out that had caught along his right sleeve as he went. He felt Dean grab his arm and tug him forward again and then blessed cooler air free of smoke hit his face as they emerged from the door.

Dean pulled Sam up with one arm, grabbing their bags with the other and lugged them all to the other side of the parking lot and the narrow grass berm there. "Sam?" Dean let him drop to sit and knelt in front of him. His face was dusted with ash, skin pale beneath it and his eyes blood shot. "Sammy, you ok?"

Sam gave him a weak nod and looked up, confused at what had been their motel. It was now completely engulfed in flames, burning high into the morning air. Other people were gathered on the grass as they were, some sitting and coughing like Sam, others just standing and staring in mute shock. "Dean…what the hell happened?" Sam gave in to another round of choking coughs as his lungs worked to evict the smoke that he'd breathed in.

Dean pounded him on the back a few times. "I don't know." He stared at the inferno and had a sinking feeling that it had happened because of them. "I was getting breakfast." He said softly. "Come on. We gotta get out of here before the cops show up." Sam let him pull him upright and hooked his bag, drawing it over his shoulder and doing the same with Sam's. "Car's just down the street."

They went quickly through the growing crowd of people and passed near the Motel Manager who was speaking animatedly to several people. "I don't how it happened!" The Manager waved his hands in the air. "I swear to god I smelled rotten eggs and then this bolt of electricity jumped from the radio to the wall and whoosh! Whole place went up! Strangest thing I've ever seen!"

Dean's blood ran cold as they carried on down the street toward the donut shop. Rotten eggs could only be the smell of sulfur, confirming his suspicions; the fire had been demonic in origin. Sam was still bent over, coughing hard into his hand and he saw the singed fabric on his sleeve as they reached the Impala. Dean opened the passenger door, sighing as a wave of cool air rolled out to meet them. He'd never been so glad he'd left the car running as he folded Sam inside, tossing the bags in after him.

"Be right back." Dean told him, shutting the door and went back inside the shop. The girl was out from behind the counter and watching out the window with wide eyes.

"Oh my gosh are you ok?" She asked Dean, glancing from him to the car and back.

"Yeah, we're fine." He scooped up the donuts from the counter and the coffees. "You have any bottles of water? My brother could use a drink."

"Geez, your brother was in that?" She stared back out the window as the first fire truck blew past, screeching to a stop in front of the motel. "Yeah sure. Hang on a sec." She dashed behind the counter and bent from sight. A moment later she stood back up, tipping several cold bottles of water into a bag and handed it to him. "No charge."

"Thanks." Dean spared her a smile and pushed back outside. Sam was lying back against the seat now, head resting on the back. More sirens were sounding in the distance, growing closer and he quickly got back behind the wheel, juggling donuts, coffee and bag as he shut the door. He pulled out one of the water bottles and passed it to Sam. "Drink." Sam nodded, smiling gratefully and emptied half the bottle with his eyes closed. Dean put the Impala in gear, pulling out just ahead of the first police cruiser and headed back for the interstate. A slow rage started to simmer inside him, knowing the Demon or Demons had waited until Sam was alone to go after him. He wondered again for the millionth time what exactly was going on. Sometimes it seemed they wanted Sam dead and others as though they wanted him alive for something. Sam coughed again beside him, draining the last of the water and Dean took a breath, settling himself. They had a case to work. He'd just have to make sure Sam didn't leave his sight for a while.

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_To Be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

"I'm fine, dude. Stop hovering." Sam told his big brother again, as he had several times already. Day was quickly fading to night, a long twelve hours since the motel had burned up around them and Dean arrowed his intense gaze on Sam every time he cleared his throat or rubbed his barely burned arm.

Dean snorted and turned back to the road. "Cause you have such a great track record of telling me when you're not fine."

"Wow, I wonder who I could have learned that from." Sam rolled his eyes and laughed when Dean flipped him off. "Dude its fine. My arm's barely burned and my throat's just scratchy from the smoke. Relax."

"Not a chance." Dean muttered but he let it drop. They were only a few hours out from Salton Sea now. The desert spread wide around them reaching up into mountains and the lonely highway was slowly angling down. He was sure if the sun hadn't slipped behind the mountains they'd have been able to see the glimmer of the lake on the horizon.

"Internet connection's gonna be a problem while we're there." Sam commented, straightening in his seat and making a vain attempt to stretch out his legs. "The only place with WiFi is the Rec. Center and it's been closed for a while."

"How long's a while?" Dean asked, glancing over at him.

"About a year." Sam smirked. "But the tower is still up. It's on the west side of the sea I think, across from Bombay Beach."

"Don't suppose there's a nice motel over there?" Dean groaned and Sam shook his head.

"There's nothing left on that side of the Sea. It's all abandoned." Sam shrugged. "At least we won't have to worry about civilians blundering in while we're hunting…whatever it is."

Dean snorted. "When is our luck ever that good?" He pressed a little harder on the gas. As far out in the middle of nowhere as they were, he wasn't too worried about being nailed for speeding. Not to mention Sam's squirming was getting on his nerves as he tried to straighten his abnormal long legs. He smirked.

"Shut up." Sam said suddenly, delivering a glare to his brother. "My legs are not freakishly long." Dean burst into laughter, his brother expertly deducing the thought that had run through his head. Sam dropped his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. "Wake me up when we get there."

"Definitely need your beauty sleep there, freakazoid." Dean deadpanned and took the punch to his arm with a smile. "You hit like a girl."

"You would know." Sam muttered and smirked as Dean growled. "Night Deanna."

"Oh so kickin' your ass." Dean glared over at him and settled back into the seat, planning various forms of vengeance with glee.

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Sam jerked awake with a startled cry as Metallica at full volume assaulted his ears. He turned a death stare to the driver's seat where Dean sat, Cheshire cat grin in place, playing air drums on the steering wheel.

"Mornin' sunshine!" Dean shouted over the music.

Sam reached over and slapped off the radio. "You suck, dude."

Dean laughed and gestured out the window. "We're here…such as it is. Figured you'd wanna be awake."

Sam looked out the window at Bombay Beach and squinted to see better in the few street lamps actually lit. It was one in the morning and the moon hanging low on the horizon lent some extra light to see by. The buildings were ramshackle, most of them defunct trailers in various stages of disrepair and a few squat, adobe buildings. Everything he could see was covered in a layer of salt and rust. The Salton Sea itself chugged softly beyond the little town.

"I think the twentieth century skipped over this place." Sam said ruefully.

"Come on." Dean opened his door and got out. "Looks like that building over there is still hopping." He waggled his brows at Sam. "Bet ya ten it's the local bar."

Sam shook his head with a short laugh. "I don't take losing bets."

Their boots crunched over the sand, both men tugging their jackets closer against the desert chill. Sam found it hard to believe that it would be over a hundred again in a few short hours. Music drifted to them from the little building, one of the adobe structures and old Christmas lights draped over the open door like a welcome. They stepped inside to find a handful of people, all looking to be in their fifties sitting around a makeshift bar. Their faces were tanned and lined, hair bleached to blonde and white and each one gazed on the brothers with decades of harsh, lonely living staring out of their eyes.

"Uh, hello." Sam smiled and stood beside Dean at the end of the scratched, wooden bar.

"Evenin' boys." The old man behind the aged counter gave them a toothless grin. "Ya'll a ways off the road here. Ya lost?"

"Nope." Dean smiled. "Thirsty and looking for a drink though."

"Ah gotcha." The man bent and came back up with two beers, sliding them onto the counter. "House brew if'n ya got the stomach for it."

Dean smirked and tried not to laugh at the dismayed look on his brothers' face. He took a long pull from the bottle and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Hey, that's not bad." He took another drink while the bartender grinned and the other patrons seemed to relax.

"Whatcha'all here for?" A woman asked from down the bar, as grizzled as the rest of them but she had all her teeth, unlike the bartender so Dean gave her his best smile.

"Thought we'd come have a look around." Dean nudged Sam softly. "Couple of our friends came through here last year and uh….well they never came back."

"They's one of them missin' folk then." The bartender said sadly. "Wish we could tell ya somethin' but…" He shrugged eloquently. "Cops and Feds come through here sometimes."

"Aw them badges don't never find nothin'." The woman said dismissively. "Reckon they won't neither."

"Why's that?" Sam asked, setting his beer aside and sensing the locals did know something, just not something the police would be interested in or believe. He wasn't surprised when everyone in the bar suddenly seemed to close down, looking anywhere but at them. "Please." Sam used his eyes to his advantage, catching the look of the woman who had spoken. "We really just want to know what happened to our friends."

"However nutballs it might sound." Dean added and smiled at her.

She looked at them for a few moments and then shook her head and stood. "It's late. Ya'll gotta be tired after your drive." She smiled and stepped over to them. "I'm Marnie. Run the motel. Only one in town. Come on I getcha a room." She turned away before they could speak, giving a light tug to Sam's sleeve and went outside.

"Guess we're done for the night." Dean shrugged and polished off the last of his beer before following Sam outside. Marnie walked several yards ahead of them toward the only multi-story building in town.

"Hey, Marnie?" Sam jogged to catch her up and pointed off in the distance. "What's that?"

Marnie chuckled. "The other half of town." Sam had pointed toward a flooded section of Bombay Beach. Trailers and cars poked up from the waters of the Sea, rusting and falling to pieces in slow motion.

"Actually I meant that." Sam pointed again toward the dark hulk of a large, complex building in the distance outlined against the sky.

"Oh that. That's one of the old resorts." Marnie waved a hand toward it. "Not much left there now but broken windows and rats."

Sam dropped back beside Dean and nodded in the old Resort's direction. "That could be promising."

"Good place to hide out and not be seen if you're a sneaky, hungry…something or other." Dean itched to go check it out that moment but knew they needed to hear whatever Marnie was going to tell them.

The Motel had a solitary sign, covered in desert dust hanging from its side over the door. It looked as though it could fall at any moment and they ducked instinctively as they passed beneath it. The interior wasn't much of an improvement. Sand seemed to get everywhere in Bombay Beach, even to covering the faded brown carpeting in the entry. Marnie stepped behind the counter which was distinctively clean and pulled a key from a wall of pegs behind it.

"No one else stayin' here just now. Got the place to yerself." Marnie smiled and handed it to them before turning a register book toward them. "Just sign in."

Sam did while Dean leaned on the counter. "Marnie. What were you going to tell us in the bar?"

Marnie huffed a breath and her face reddened slightly. "Well honestly it's silly." She smirked and waved a hand. "There's some old stories around here, back from when there used to be Indians around you know, before the Sea came in and flooded 'em out." She chuckled. "Bet that was a bad day. Anyway, there's some as say they had a protector or some such thing. You know, like a monster on a leash. Crazy talk and all I know but…" She looked out the grimy window to the Sea. "When folk just start up and vanishin' the crazy don't sound so crazy anymore."

"What kind of monster?" Sam asked gently and gave her a smile to urge her on.

"Oh hell I don't know, son." Marnie laughed in earnest now. "Friggin big foot for all I know. Your room's up on the second floor. Less sand up there. Come on I'll show ya."

"I'll go get the bags from the car." Sam said, clapping Dean's shoulder on his way past as Marnie headed toward a set of rickety, wrought iron stairs in the corner.

"Watch your back." Dean told him and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dude, I'll be fine." Sam lowered his voice for Dean's ears. "It's all sand and salt out there. No ghosts. No Demons. No way." He smiled at his big brother and stepped back outside.

Dean watched him go and reluctantly followed Marnie up the stairs to the second floor. She was right, the carpeting was almost free of sand, the walls just a bit cleaner and she led him down the hall to the other end of the building.

"There's another stair back there." Marnie pointed to a short turn in the hall. "There's a washer and dryer down there. Dryer don't work." She snorted. "Hell, washer only works when it wants to. This is you." She pointed and Dean opened the door to find a not unpleasant room. Airy curtains covered the lone window. Two queen size beds sat against one wall while a threadbare couch sat on the other with a low table in front of it.

"It aint much but we don't bother rollin' out the TV's til tourist season." Marnie pulled open a door next to the entry that Dean saw was the bathroom. "You're a mite early for that yet. Fresh towels in there and I changed all the sheets and stuff this morning."

"Thanks, Marnie." Dean said, smiling. "This'll be great."

"You need anything I'm the first trailer on your left when you go out." Marnie patted his arm and left. "Night."

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Sam strode back outside and through the quiet town toward the car with his eyes out at the Sea. He wondered if the creature, whatever it was, was living out there or in the desert somewhere. He saw several people stumbling out of the bar and toward the ramshackle collection of trailers and then jerked his eyes back out to the water. He'd seen something break the surface, he was sure. A short pier jutted out from behind the bar and he jogged over to it to get a better look. It was sturdier than it looked with several small boats moored to it. The water lapped gently beneath him as he walked out to the end of the pier. He looked out over the night darkened waters and waited. It really was a lovely place, he thought to himself, even with the sand, salt and heat. It was beautiful in its austerity and he could understand why tourists would still make the trek to come here with their cameras.

The sound of water splashing drew his eyes and again he saw something just break the surface about thirty yards out before sinking away again. It was too dark to tell what it was but he was sure it was too big to be any of the few fish he'd read still lived in the Salton Sea. He squinted, trying to see further if it showed itself again and didn't notice the dark shadow passing beneath the pier just beside him.

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Dean paced the little room, counting steps in his head as he did and with each step wondered what was taking Sam so long. Finally, he kicked the old couch.

"Dammit." Dean cursed and strode to the door. He went quickly down the hall and to the stairs. He was probably going to find Sam deep in some boring conversation with a local about the history of the place but he couldn't shake the feeling that had yet to leave him since the fire the day before. It was well after one in the morning in a lonely town, middle of nowhere with something eating people and dammit Sam should know better than to leave him sitting around wondering.

Dean emerged from the motel into the cool night air again and looked toward the Impala. His frown deepened. Sam was nowhere near it. He scanned the little town as he walked and then saw his brother's tall, lanky form standing out at the end of a pier behind the bar.

"What the hell, Sam?" Dean asked quietly and picked up his pace, ready to push him in for a little swim for making him sit up there wondering all sorts of awful things and meanwhile Sam was just enjoying the damn scenery. As he reached the back of the bar, he saw Sam stumble. The bottom fell out of his stomach as he saw the entire pier shake. Dean broke into a run and shouted his brother's name as the pier suddenly lurched to one side, tilting impossibly and Sam was thrown into the dark waters below. "SAM!"

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To Be Continue…


	3. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER 3** _

Sam felt the pier shift beneath his feet; heard something bump into the pilings as he stumbled in surprise. He took a step back, meaning to get off and back on dry land when the entire structure suddenly lurched, canting to one side. He was thrown into the air, his brother's frantic voice reaching his ears just as he hit the water and sank beneath. He kicked, trying to right himself and head for the surface but suddenly felt as though his head was spinning. An image formed in his mind sending a searing pain to stab behind his eyes. He had the dizzying view of himself floating in the dark water and resisted the urge to gasp in pain. He flailed, fighting against the vision as his lungs strained for air and the pain in his head spiked again, the vision of himself growing closer and clearer. He shook his head, trying to shake off the bizarre double sight and then choked on a mouthful of salty water as something slammed into his back.

"SAM!" Dean shouted and ran the last few meters to the pier. His brother had yet to resurface. He stripped off his jacket and dashed onto the now canted pier, stumbling from post to post out toward the end. The water was too dark to see anything beneath its surface but he knew roughly where Sam had gone in and, without a thought for his own safety, he dove in. The Sea was oddly cool and the high salt content in the water stung his eyes as he dove, turning one way and then another for any glimpse of Sam beneath its surface. From the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow of something and turned, swimming hard for it. Please be Sam, he called silently as he neared and wanted to shout for joy when his hands closed on Sam's jacket. Dean pulled him in against his chest and kicked for the surface, worried that his brother made no move to help. They broke the surface of the water, Dean gasping in a lungful of air and suddenly there were voices and arms reached in for them. Sam was pulled from his grasp and tugged up. A moment later Dean too was pulled in and found himself landed in one of the boats beside his brother.

"He aint breathin'!"

Dean looked up and saw it was the bartender leaning over Sam. "Move!" Dean ordered and scrambled to his knees beside him. He put both hands on Sam's chest below his ribs and pushed hard once, twice and again. He gasped in relief when Sam suddenly coughed water up, his back arching off the floor of the boat as he sucked in oxygen and then dissolved into a coughing fit. "Hey, hey buddy breathe." Dean took Sam's arms and tugged him up so he was sitting. Sam's head dropped forward to thump on his shoulder as the coughing eased. "Sammy?"

"M'okay." Sam muttered hoarsely, still heaving in great gales of air.

"Ease up, Sam. Slower." Dean told him and thumped firmly on his back to help.

"He gonna be alright?" The bartender asked, concerned.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, dude. Seriously." Dean looked up for the first time and saw two other of the bar patrons had come with him and were now studying the tilted pier in surprise.

"What the hell happened, man?" One of the other men asked and Dean shrugged.

"I don't know. It looked like the whole damn thing shifted to one side. Threw Sam in when it did." Dean kept a firm grip on Sam as the boat rocked while the bartender tossed a rope to one of the men balancing on the pier.

"Pull us in, Joey. Not gettin' this kid off on that mess." He gave a grim smile to Dean. "I'm Dutch by the way. Good thing we was only just turnin' in."

"Yeah." Dean nodded and focused his attention back to his brother. "Sammy? You ok?"

Sam nodded against his shoulder. Now that he could breathe again, a more insistent pain was beginning to beat a tattoo across his back as his head began to pound and the vision he'd had beneath the water flooded back to him. He groaned softly in spite of himself, curling his fingers into Dean's arm with the pain.

"Must'a been a tremor." Joey said as he pulled the boat up onto the beach and steadied it. "Sank the pilings on one side of the pier."

"Never seen nothin' like it." Dutch shook his head and stood. "Come on then, let's get him up. Reckon ya'll are ready for that night's sleep now."

"Ok, Sammy. Just hang on to me." Dean stood slowly, pulling Sam with him and frowned at the hiss of pain that accompanied Sam standing. "What? What is it?" Sam only shook his head and focused all his attention on getting out of the boat between Dean and the bartender. Dean took most of his weight once they were on dry land again. "I got it from here guys. Thanks."

"Ya need a shot of somethin' stiff to get him movin' again stop by the bar." Dutch said as they staggered off toward the motel.

"I will." Dean told him and hitched Sam's arm higher up on his shoulder, steadying him as he swayed.

"Never…got the bags." Sam said and tried to stop but Dean pushed him on.

"I'll get 'em after I get your gigantor, dripping ass up to the room. Shut up and walk." Dean was gruff, hiding the fear still rippling through him. Almost losing Sam twice in two days was more than his nerves wanted to handle. Sam leaned more heavily into him, his face scrunching up in pain. "Dude, what else is wrong with you?"

"Need to sit." Sam said softly, more from not wanting to shift his back more than he had to than anything else. "Just…lemme sit."

"Ok, almost there." Dean angled them both into the motel door and sighed as they reached the stairs. It took more time than he liked to maneuver Sam up the stairs and down the hall. He let them into the room and deposited Sam on the side of the bed furthest from the door. "Ok, I'm gonna go get the bags. You…do not move from this spot." Dean ordered. His worry ratcheted up another notch when Sam only nodded rather than bristle at being ordered. "You're not inspiring me with an overabundance of confidence here, Sammy."

"Sorry. I'm good." Sam looked up and gave him a wan smile. "Go get the bags." He closed his eyes and groaned. "Really want the painkillers."

Dean scowled but opted to just go get them instead. He was panting by the time he got back to the room having ran down, out to the Impala and then back up carrying an extra thirty pounds. Sam was where he'd left him, sitting stiffly on the side of the bed with his head hanging down and eyes closed.

"How you doin', Sammy?" Dean asked as he sifted through his bag for the first aid kit and the bottle of Whiskey he kept there.

"Okay." Sam said after a moment. "Back…is killing me."

"What the hell happened out there?" Dean stood in front of him and worked at getting Sam's sodden jacket off of him.

"There's…something out there." Sam hissed as he fought to lift his arms and get his shirts off. "I dunno. Didn't really…ow…get a look at it."

"Shit, Sam." Dean whistled softly as he tugged off his brother's undershirt and leaned around to get a look at his back. A wide bruise was coming up from right hip to left shoulder blade. "Something clocked you good."

"It was weird." Sam murmured, thinking back to those few moments before he'd lost consciousness. "I had a…a vision I guess." He rubbed a hand to his head to relieve the pounding headache there. "But it was different."

"Different how?" Dean pulled the bottle of painkillers from the first aid kit and held them up along with the Whiskey bottle. "You want your painkiller in liquid or pill form?" Sam took the pill bottle and Dean shrugged. "Suit yourself." He unscrewed the cap and took a swig, needing the fiery warmth to settle himself.

"I could see myself." Sam tossed back a couple of the painkillers and set the bottle aside. "Like, I was outside myself, looking at me under the water." He frowned. "Dude, I think I was seeing what the creature was seeing."

"Well how the hell does that work?" Dean exclaimed and sat on the other bed. "Your shining aint weird enough now you've got onboard monster vision?"

Sam gave him a disgusted look. "I have no idea. It felt like my head was splitting in two and then…nothing."

"Yeah and then it took a swing at you and you swallowed half the damn Sea." Dean took another long pull from the bottle and stood. "I'm gonna get dry." He handed the Whiskey bottle to Sam. "Don't gimme that look. It'll help those pills work faster."

Sam watched him vanish into the bathroom and then shrugged. He took a long swallow from the bottle and set it aside, grimacing at the heat then stood shakily to get his water logged jeans off before he soaked his bed through.

When Dean came back out, Sam was in bed stretched on his stomach beneath the covers. "You need anything?"

"Sleep." Sam said shortly and pushed his head further into his pillow. The painkillers and whiskey were starting to do their job and the pain across his back was easing. "Then research."

Dean waited until Sam's breathing evened out into sleep and then he grabbed up his phone, stepping out into the hall and dialed Bobby. It never seemed to matter what time he called; Bobby always answered and as always, he picked up after the first ring.

"Dean. How's the hunt going? You there yet?" Bobby said gruffly, sounding as though he'd been sleeping at his desk again and he probably had.

"Yeah, we're here. Still not sure what it is we're hunting but it took a shot at Sam tonight." Dean waited for the cursing to stop and then quickly filled Bobby in. "So, the motel owner says it could be some Indian nasty left over from before the flood and it somehow managed to make Sam see what it was seeing." He paused to take a deep breath. "That narrow the field enough for you?"

"It helps." Bobby sighed. "I'll get on it. Knowing the tribe and the psychic thing should make it easier to track down. You watch him, Dean. If this thing is gettin' in his head, no telling what it's capable of."

"Don't worry. I'm not letting him out of my sight." Dean assured him. He debated telling Bobby about the motel fire and then shook his head. There was no reason to add to Bobby's pile of worry. There was nothing he could do about it. "We'll call you soon as we learn anything else. Thanks, Bobby."

"Just stay in one piece, idjits." Bobby told him and hung up.

Dean listened to the click and stepped back into their room. Sam's even breaths were music to his ears and if he spent several minutes just listening to them, well, he would never admit it.

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Dean woke to the sound of the shower shutting off and mentally slapped himself for not hearing Sam wake up. He yawned and stretched, rolling to sit on the side of the bed as Sam emerged from the bathroom in his jeans, t-shirt in his hands and a disgusted look on his face.

"Hey, Dean, uh…" Sam held up the shirt and looked pathetic. "I can't get my arms up just yet."

Dean snorted and ducked his head to hide the grin as he stood and took the shirt. He pulled the shirt over Sam's head and helped him get his arms through then couldn't help the chuckle, having done this for Sam so many times as a child. "Dude, feel like I oughta be makin' you Lucky Charms for breakfast now."

"Jerk." Sam shot back, his face reddening with embarrassment.

"Bitch." Dean grinned. "Gimme ten to wash off the salt and we'll go find breakfast." He shut the bathroom door on Sam with his meaning clear in the air; don't leave the room without me. He took a shower in record time, aided by the fact Sam had left him precious little hot water to work with and emerged to find his brother at the window looking out on the Salton Sea. "No more swimming."

Sam chuckled. "Don't worry. Water tastes like ass."

Dean laughed and pulled his flannel on, slipping his Desert Eagle into the back of his belt. "Well let's go see what this place has in the way of breakfast."

In the little lobby, Marnie was behind the desk waiting. "Heard you boys had some excitement last night." She eyed Sam critically. "Look pretty good for a drowned guy." Sam ducked his head making her laugh. "If ya'll are hungry, Dutch puts up a pretty good spread at the bar."

"Does everything run out of the bar around here?" Dean asked with a chuckle.

"Small town." Marnie grinned. "Hell this here's the hospital." She bent and pulled up a large emergency medical kit, setting it back with a laugh. "Well, will be til they sell the land out from under us."

Sam stopped on his way to the door, his interest piqued. "Is someone trying to shut down Bombay Beach?"

Marnie nodded. "Some slick city guy with more money n' sense." She flicked her fingers dismissively. "Been through 'bout a year ago offerin' everyone money for their land." She snorted. "As if we'd leave our homes. He's got some screwy idea about building up the area of some nonsense." She rolled her eyes. "They tried that in the sixties." Marnie waved a hand outside. "You see how well that worked. Rich folks never learn."

"Huh." Sam met Dean's eyes, raising his brows and got a nod.

"Thanks, Marnie." Dean grinned at her. "We're off to check out Dutch's cooking." Both men stepped outside into the morning heat, sun beating down upon them and Dean blew out a breath as he rolled up his sleeves.

"We were wondering what might have set off a creature on a killing spree." Sam commented, tugging his own sleeves up to his elbows as they walked. "Someone threatening to rearrange its territory would certainly do it."

"We need to find out who this guy is and what he's after." Dean squinted against the bright light and sighed in relief when they entered the darkened confines of the bar. He then grinned as the smell of sizzling bacon met his nose. "Oh baby. I smell pig."

Sam chuckled and waved in greeting as Dutch emerged through a narrow door at the back. "Morning! Marnie said you'd have breakfast?"

"Lookin' better today, son!" Dutch came around the bar and clapped Sam on the shoulder. "I got some rib stickin' food here put hair back on your chest."

Dean clapped his hands together in glee. "Don't tease me, man."

Dutch waved them to a rickety table at the back of the bar and Sam groaned as he sat. "Hey, Dutch? What's this about some rich guy trying to buy up the town?"

"Marnie been yellin' again?" Dutch laughed. "Ya know she ran him outta her motel last year with a shotgun. Said he was gettin' handsy with her granddads antiques. That was a sight, I tell ya."

Both Winchesters sat up straighter, sensing they were getting closer to understanding exactly what was going on. Dean however was instantly distracted when Dutch reached behind him and came back with a plate loaded with bacon, setting it in front of him.

"We should talk about that." Dean said, practically drooling. "After breakfast. Got any Lucky Charms for Sam?"

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_To Be Continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

_**CHAPTER 4** _

"You know, you crank the A/C any higher there'll be icicles on the rearview in a minute." Sam said with a soft chuckle though he appreciated the relief from the desert heat as they drove. They were heading to the city of Brawley at the south end of Salton Sea hoping to find the Investor Dutch had told them about over a breakfast spread that had nearly made Dean weep with joy.

"We'll be boiling again soon enough." Dean lamented as they entered the city limits of Brawley. In spite of the larger population, it didn't look all that different from Bombay Beach; more developed and there were even some respectably tall buildings rising up in the center of the city but it was still run down, everything coated in sand and salt and the seeming obligatory collection of eccentric trailer homes spreading out around what little of the city there was.

Dutch had given them a name. He'd kept the man's business card tacked to the wall behind his bar and happily handed it over with a laugh for its condition; filled with little holes and he'd pointed at the darts stuck in the board around it. Marnie wasn't the only one who didn't have a high opinion of one David Molhoney.

"Why you suppose, if this guy is as loaded as they say he is, he's living in a sand hole like this?" Dean asked, following Sam's hand when he pointed to a side street. "Gotta be better places around here to kick back if you're rich."

"Nothing about this case is making any sense yet." Sam nodded toward a four story building ahead of them. "That's the one. Molhoney Enterprises on the third floor."

"Charming." Dean observed of the brick and stone block building blasted by decades of sand and harsh sun. He pulled around the side into a parking lot that belonged in an inner city somewhere and gave his car a pat on the hood as he got out. "Don't like leavin' my baby out here."

Sam pulled himself out of the car, leaning on the roof for a moment while his back adjusted. "As if anyone who touched her would last for more than five minutes."

"Damn straight." Dean nodded. "Come on gimpy." He waited for Sam to round the car, slowly straightening himself as he came. The bruising on his back miraculously hadn't broken anything but that didn't mean it wasn't painful.

"I'm good." Sam said firmly as Dean cast him another sidelong glance. "We should ask him why he was rifling Marnie's Grandfather's antiques while we're here."

"Maybe he's just got sticky fingers." Dean smirked as they rounded the building and the not so busy street. A few cars, as dust covered as most everything else passed back and forth on the street. The heat of the day made them the only people out walking and the sweat was pouring off both men as they stepped inside the building hoping for a blast of air conditioning. Sadly it was as warm inside as out and stuffier.

"Elevator." Sam pointed to the lone elevator at the back of the empty lobby saving them from three flights of stairs in the heat. He stepped up and pressed the button, frowning when it didn't light.

"Aw man it figures." Dean groaned and bent to the floor. He came back up with a scuffed piece of notebook paper and held it out. 'out of order' was scrawled across it. "We gotta hoof it." He turned and led the way to the door marked stairs.

Sam refused to admit how badly his back was aching by the time they reached the third floor. They were both winded, sweating buckets and in Dean's case muttering oaths of things he was going to do to whatever idiot couldn't be bothered to fix a damn elevator.

"Every second this guy makes less sense to me." Sam said, huffing up the last few steps and he followed Dean out into the hall. "Definitely something hinky going on here."

Unlike the lobby and stairwell, this floor was air conditioned and they both gave sighs of relief as the sweat began to dry on their faces. Across from them was a door with a glass pane and Molhoney Enterprises stenciled across it. Dean gave a brief knock and opened the door.

"Can I help you?" A young woman sat at a desk across from the door in front of a large picture window. The fan on her desk swiveled and blew up the corners of a stack of papers weighted down on the corner of her desk. She pushed a flop of brown hair out of her eyes and smiled at them.

"Yeah, we're here to see Mr. Molhoney." Dean pulled a badge from his pocket in unison with Sam, flipping it open. "We're from the Federal Land Development Bureau. Got a few questions about a project he's trying to start up in Bombay Beach."

She glanced at the badges as they were flipped away. "Oh, well let me just see if he's free. Please wait here." She stood and vanished through a door on the left.

"Federal Land Development Bureau?" Sam rolled his eyes. "Dude, I don't think that's even a thing."

"Is now." Dean shrugged and grinned. The secretary came back out, leaving the door ajar.

"He says he can see you now but only for a few minutes." She stepped aside for them. "He's very busy you know."

"No problem. This won't take long." Dean entered the office with Sam at his back and got his first look at David Molhoney. He was tall, though shorter than Dean with nearly bleached blonde hair and dark brown eyes and he fixed them both with a steely gaze as they entered.

"I assume you have questions?" Mr. Molhoney said tersely and waved at the chairs in front of his desk. "I'm in rather a hurry today."

"Well our bosses have gotten wind of your project at Bombay Beach and they'd like to know exactly what it is you're planning." Dean ignored the chairs. He liked making the guy look up at him. "Some of the locals aren't exactly happy with your methods."

"The locals." Molhoney sneered. "They're a bunch of backwater plebeians. I'm offering them enough money to go wherever they wish and they actually _want_ to stay in that cesspit." He smiled suddenly. "But I'm being rude. My company plans to relocate the local population and build a drilling site. There's a large cache of natural gas beneath the Salton Sea. It only needs to be tapped into."

"Correct me if I'm wrong but doesn't the Sea sit directly over top of a major fault line?" Sam stepped forward, brows raised. "You can't just go drilling over a fault line like that. You could destabilize it and cause a catastrophic earthquake."

"My engineers assure me that simply won't happen." Molhoney dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "I really don't see where this is any of the Federal governments' concern to be honest. I have all my permits."

"But not the land." Dean said with a smile. He really didn't like Molhoney the more he spoke. "If the locals won't sell all you've got are permits."

"They'll sell." Molhoney gave them a toothy smile. "Eventually. Now, I'm afraid you gentlemen will have to excuse me. That's all the time I have for this. My secretary can see you out." He took a briefcase from his desk and quickly left before they could ask anything else.

"Ok, he's up to something." Dean said surely. "I'm starting to think that creature's not killin' people because Ritchie Rich has plans."

"More like maybe someone woke it up and sent it out to get rid of complications." Sam nodded. "But how'd he do it? If he did send the thing he's certainly not in control of it. It's only killed tourists so far and that's not going to help his cause."

Dean shrugged. "I don't know but I don't like him. Come on." They gave the Secretary a nod as they left.

"We should check out that location Dutch gave us while we're on this side of the Sea." Sam said as they started down the stairs. "Where the last tourists went missing."

"You know they're toast, right?" Dean turned the corner and started down the next flight. "Might still be able to find those tracks he mentioned though. If that lake monster can come on land we need to know." Dutch had mentioned how they'd gone looking for the newlyweds and found only weird, large tracks near the beach and the husband's camera in the sand.

Sam nodded sadly. The couple had been missing for four days now. The odds of finding either of them alive were slim at best. Privately he held on to a sliver of hope. He couldn't help himself. "I know. Maybe we can at least find the bodies."

They made the rest of the descent in silence, the heat once more falling around them as they stepped outside and went round to find the Impala exactly as they'd left it. Pulling out onto the road and heading north out of Brawley, neither man noticed the jeep that fell in behind them at a safe distance.

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Mid-day was possibly not the best time to have decided on searching a desert around a Salt Sea Sam thought to himself as they plodded through the sands. The bruising on his back had let up enough for him to raise his arms again and he was doing so now trying to hold his shirt away from his back. The combination of sweat, salt and sand on the bruise was maddening.

"Think we should have waited til nightfall." Sam groaned as they topped another dune and Dean nodded, wiping a hand across his face.

"No more daytime trips. If the Loch Ness Monster weren't in there I'd say let's go for a swim." He chuckled. "But I'm not in the mood to be eaten just yet."

"We'd have to find the damn Sea first." Sam looked up into the blue sky and back out on the dunes. "Where the hell are we?"

"Pretty sure it's just over that rise." Dean pointed ahead of them and then pulled a GPS from his pocket. "Actually, this is damn close to where Dutch said they found the camera." He studied the display and started forward again.

"Well I don't see anything out of the ordinary here." Sam kicked at a pile of scrub brush burnt brown in the sun. "Let's check the beach." He went past Dean and started up the next dune.

"Don't even see the tracks he was talkin' about. Probably been covered over by the sand." Dean looked up to his brother on the dune ahead of him and froze for a moment. A small red dot was inching its way up his back. It was a laser sight. "Sam!" Dean ran full out and tackled his brother at the top of the rise, tumbling them both over the other side just as a shot rang out in the still air. They rolled to the bottom, coming to a rest beside the Salton Sea in a heap of arms and legs.

"What…the hell?" Sam groaned and tried to roll off his back. "Dude, move your leg." He pushed at Dean's leg lying across his neck.

"Someone's shooting at us." Dean gasped, angry and pulled his gun as he scrambled off Sam and then crawled toward the top of the dune for a look back. "Saw the laser sight on your back."

Sam's jaw dropped at how close he'd come to buying the farm. He shook it off and rolled to his knees. "Crap." The fall down the dune hadn't helped his back any. It spasmed and doubled him over. "Ok that hurts."

"I can't see anyone yet." Dean growled and slid back down beside him. "You hit?"

Sam shook his head. "Just my back. I'll be fine." He took out his own gun to prove it.

"Ok. Stay here. I'm gonna circle back and keep your damn head down." Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder for a moment and then went off along the dune in a crouched run.

Sam glanced around and saw the remains of a boat house half sunk into the edge of the Sea. "That'll do." He muttered, wanting to get under cover in case someone other than his brother came over the dune. It took him two tries to get his feet. Fortunately, staying in a bent position wasn't a problem for him just then as his back refused to straighten and he went quickly to the little building, splashing into the water beside it until he found a fallen down wall. He climbed over the remains and hunched down behind it so he could see the dune clearly.

Dean went as fast as he dared; each step away from Sam making him twitch but if someone was actually shooting at them he was damn well going to find out why or shoot them first. He reached the end of the dune and ducked behind a dense pile of bushes and cactus. He peered out between the branches and waited, watching the direction they'd come from. He figured by now the shooter had to be wondering if he'd hit Sam, or maybe both of them and sooner or later he'd have to come take a look.

The gunman proved him right a moment later. A head peeked over the rise to his right and waited, then the man rose up and came down the near side, rifle held ready and studying the footprints he and Sam had left as they went over the next dune. Dean brought his gun up and inched out from his cover as the gunman turned slightly away.

"You move. I shoot." Dean called and watched as the man jerked in surprise and froze. "You took a shot at my brother, jackass. That kinda thing don't exactly bring out the best in me. Drop the gun." He watched the gunman tense and smirked. "Don't even think about it. No way you get a shot off at me before I drop your sorry ass." The gunman's shoulders drooped and the rifle fell into the sand with a dull thump. "Good boy. Now, who the hell are you?"

"Just doing my job pal." The man replied, turning slowly to face Dean with his hands in the air.

"Your job?" Dean glared at him. "Someone paid you to kill my brother?"

"Both of you actually." His eyes darted nervously between Dean's face and the gun steadily pointed at his head. "Look. No reason this has to go bad. I already got paid man. I can just leave. Everyone's happy."

"I'm not happy. Do I look happy?" Dean glared at him. "Nope, not my happy face. Who hired you?"

The gunman shook his head. "No way, man. He'll have me killed."

"Buddy I'm gonna kill ya long before he can if you don't answer me. Who hired you?" Dean cocked back the hammer on his Desert Eagle and saw him pale in understanding.

"Molhoney ok?" The gunman shouted. "Told me to follow you guys and make sure no one found the bodies and I don't know why. He didn't tell me. I swear that's all I know man."

"That uptight son of a bitch!" Dean growled and resisted the urge to pull the trigger just out of temper. The gunman looked down at his feet suddenly. "I said don't move."

"What the…?" The man stepped back. "What's going on?"

Dean scowled as the gunman took another step back and then sank to his knees in the sand. "Holy crap!" Dean rushed forward, ready to grab him but he didn't get the chance. There was a muffled growling sound from beneath the sands and then the gunman screamed once before he was sucked from sight. Dean skidded to a stop, gun trained at the ground. "Not good. This is not good."

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_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

_**CHAPTER 5** _

Sam crouched inside the dilapidated boat house; his gun squeezed tightly in his hand and waited. His back was screaming at him again thanks to the downhill tumble and his heavy-weight of a brother using him as an airbag. He smirked at the picture they must have made. He saw Dean disappear far off to his right around the dune and nodded. Whoever had shot at them was about to have a very bad day. He scanned the top of the dune, wary for any sign of the shooter but the only sound he heard was the Sea lapping gently against the building.

"Hurry up, Dean." Sam muttered softly. He turned his head to glance back out at the water and was kind of relieved the back wall of the little boat house was still standing. He couldn't help the crawl of his nerves wondering if the creature, whatever it was, knew he was there. A moment later he got his answer as a searing pain sliced through his head. Sam groaned and dropped his head into his free hand, gun loosening in his grip as the creature's presence bulled its way into his consciousness again. The strange double vision of seeing the sand before him overlaid with another's thoughts made his head spin, his stomach roil. He saw darkness, felt sand and water sluicing past him. He felt vibrations along his sides and followed the sensation pulling sand past him and pushing the water forward, creating a channel beneath the desert floor.

Sam dug his fingers into his head, trying to block it out to no avail. Distantly he felt himself fall to his knees, the cool sea water sloshing around his legs. The pressure built in his head as he heard the sound of voices and recognized the cadence of his brother's speech. Panic flared, roaring through him and he scrambled to his feet to stumble and splash out of the water, back onto the beach.

"Dean." Sam gasped. The pain drove him to his knees as he reached the dune and started crawling up. He heard a man cry out both in his mind and with his ears. The combination was disorienting as he saw sunlight filter through in the image in his mind, legs appeared, a torso and then a terrified, startled face.

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Dean stood only a few feet away from where the gunman had vanished. Water had bubbled up in his wake and a small pond stood still now where he had been pulled beneath the sands. He stood perfectly still, hoping if he didn't move the creature wouldn't know he was there. Movement to his left drew his eye and he looked up to see Sam top the rise.

"Sam, stop!" Dean called as loud as he dared but his brother didn't seem to hear him. Sam wobbled to his feet clutching his head; pain evident on his face.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, desperate to warn his brother of the danger beneath him. He knew the creature was still there. He tried to throw off the sickening sensation of swallowing the man he'd seen whole. "Dean."

"Sammy, stay still dammit!" Dean looked back at the still pond of water and groaned. He put up his gun and then ran, using his hands to help pull him up the sand dune. He ignored the rumble he suddenly felt beneath his feet as he neared his little brother. "Sam." Dean hissed as his brother fell to his knees and curled in over his head with a moan.

"Dean, it's here." Sam ground out between his teeth. His head felt as though it was splitting in two and he jumped when he felt hands on his shoulders.

"I know, kiddo." Dean dropped to his knees beside Sam and wrapped an arm over his shoulders to hold him still. "Just don't move and be quiet." He whispered and hoped the creature was too busy to chewing on their assassin to realize they were still there. The rumbling beneath the sands lessened, moving slowly away and back toward the Salton Sea as Sam slowly collapsed into his lap, body going limp in relief. "Sammy?" Dean bent over him and found him unconscious. "When I said stay quiet this isn't what I meant. Sam?" Dean gave him a little shake, worried at what had caused him enough pain to knock him out. The sun beat down on them, Sam's shirts were as stuck to him as his own and the heat radiating up from the sand was almost worse than the sun above making it hard to breathe.

"Sam. Wake up." Dean bent to shield Sam's face from the sun and gave him another shake. "Come on, buddy before that Tremors son of a bitch comes back." He turned to look over his shoulder at the sea. The only movement was the graceful flight of several Cranes as they skimmed its surface looking for unsuspecting fish. Sam groaned in his lap and Dean pulled his face up. "That's it, Sammy. Wake up."

Sam felt as though moving his head would break it apart. "Holy crap." He groaned and cracked his eyes open to see Dean's concerned face leaning over him.

"Lemme guess. Monster vision again?" Dean asked and got a tired nod. "Ok, I think Nessie's back in the water. We gotta get back to the car and get out of here before it comes back. You walk?"

"Yeah. Just, get me up." Sam shut his eyes for another moment, begging the pounding to subside as Dean shifted him until he was sitting. That motion alone had him fighting the urge to throw up. "I wanna gank this thing." He swallowed hard. "Now."

"Yeah, I hear ya." Dean pulled him slowly to his feet and gave him a second to orient himself. "It ate the guy who was shooting at us." He said and nodded to a slowly shrinking pool of water at the base of the dune. "But not before he told me he was hired by Molhoney."

Sam's head jerked up in surprise. "Wait, Molhoney hired him to kill us? What the hell for?"

"Maybe we were asking too many questions." Dean shrugged and took Sam's arm to steady him down the hill of sand. He didn't like the pallor hiding under the sun reddened skin of his face. "Or he was jealous of my good looks." Dean smirked as his brother rolled his eyes.

"I think you don't just hire out a couple murders unless you've got something serious to hide." Sam stumbled, thankful for Dean's hand on his arm steadying him. "Guy's dirty, Dean."

"Ya think?" Dean shook his head. "We need to talk to Marnie and find out what he was looking for when he rifled her granddad's things and call Bobby. He's gotta have something by now."

They reached the car twenty minutes later; hot, sweaty, grimy and as they neared the Impala Dean spun off a string of curses that would have made any Marine proud.

"That scum sucking, jackass son of a BITCH!" Dean rounded his car, eyes wide in shock and anger. All four tires had been cut and the car sat with the bottom of the doors in the sand. "Aw baby what'd he do to you?" He looked back the way they'd come with a fulminating glare. "You bastard! I hope you're not dead! Cause if I find you I'm gonna kill you!"

Sam was torn between laughter at Dean and anger at the man who'd defiled their home. He leaned against the passenger side of the car and rubbed his head, still aching from the vision. "Dean? Dean, we gotta think of something here." He pointed up towards the sun. It was noon and wouldn't be cooling off anytime soon. Dean was still stalking around the Impala running his hands over the body and stopping periodically to scowl out at the desert.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean kicked the sand up into a cloud. "Ok, that asshole had to drive something out here after us. Let's find it. Not much wind so…"

"His prints will still be around. Ok." Sam nodded and started walking out from the car in a wide circle opposite Dean. It didn't take long to spot them; heavy footprints of booted feet leading off toward a thick stand of cactus on a small rise. They rounded the cacti and found a dust covered jeep hidden on the other side.

"Can't believe I gotta leave my baby out here in this dust bowl." Dean growled as he wrenched the driver's side door open and looked in. "And of course he had the keys on him when it ate him. Get in." Dean bent under the steering column and pulled out his pocket knife while Sam climbed in the passenger seat.

"Pretty sure I saw a tow yard as we were leaving Brawley." Sam wiped sweat from his face and leaned forward to keep his sore, bruised back off the seat. The sun was making his head pound harder and he would have given anything just then for a cool, dark room. "Should be able to get her towed back in."

"Screw that." Dean said as the Jeep's engine sputtered to life and he straightened in the seat. "I'm not lettin' some desert grease monkey put his paws all over her. We'll get some tires and come back out."

"Dean, tow her back in." Sam said reasonably. "That thing's drawn to vibrations or something. You think it's gonna miss a tow truck rumbling in? You won't have time to jack the car out of the sand and change four tires before it's on you."

Dean growled out at the desert as he sped the Jeep towards the road and Brawley. "Fine." He punched the dash and smiled when it produced a rattle from beneath. He was tempted to take a sledgehammer to the jeep as he was unable to take one to its late owner. He glanced over to see Sam resting his head in his hand on the window, eyes closed tight. "How's your head?"

"Down from a jackhammer to a sledge hammer." Sam drawled and cracked one eye at him. "It's fine."

"Well that's crap." Dean said shortly. "You got a damn monster tapping into your psychic hotline and did you miss the part where it laid you out? Cause I didn't. I don't like it, Sammy."

Sam only shrugged. "Not a lot I can do about it so, we'll deal." He didn't tell Dean but he thought maybe he could use that link to their advantage. He'd not just seen but felt what the creature was feeling and wondered if he concentrated next time he might be able tell where it was or distract it somehow. He narrowly stopped himself from chuckling at the reaction he was sure Dean would have to such an idea and wisely kept it to himself for now.

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Dean had left Sam behind in Brawley under protest while he went with the tow truck to collect the Impala. Sam shook his head at the protective streak Dean had manifested recently but it was getting on his nerves. He sat in an air conditioned library, or what passed for one in Brawley. It was actually a small basement in the Brawley Town Hall. Bobby would have called it a closet, he thought to himself with a smirk looking around the cramped basement of dusty shelves and filing cabinets. He jumped when his cell phone rang and hastily pulled it from his pocket.

"Sam, dammit. I been callin' you boys for hours." Bobby's irritated voice greeted Sam as he flipped the phone open and chuckled.

"Kind of in the middle of a mostly dead zone here, Bobby." Sam said, smiling at the irritated growl. "Find anything on our creature?"

"Oh yeah and you aint gonna like it. Dean with you?" Bobby asked and Sam could hear him rustling through papers.

"No he's uh…off having the Impala towed." Sam winced when he said it and then smirked at the invective Bobby let loose; so reminiscent of his brothers. "There's a developer here, Molhoney? Yeah well, we seem to have pissed him off." Sam filled Bobby in on everything that had happened since they'd last spoken to him though he glossed over the whole psychic connection to the creature. "I'm trying to dig up any info I can on Molhoney. There's not a lot. Guy seems to have come out of nowhere."

"Well I can at least fill you in on the monster of the week. It's an old Cuhilla beastie called a Taniwha. Typically it's a sea creature but it can come on land." He paused. "And under it. Things can tunnel water channels beneath the ground."

"Yeah, we saw that." Sam groaned. "When it killed the gunman."

"You're gonna wanna tread lightly around the sea. Thing can probably pick up vibrations from a good distance." Bobby sat back with a thump Sam could hear over the phone. "Here's the bit you boys won't like. Near as I can tell, the tribe that used to live there before the tide came in called two of these things."

"Oh hell." Sam slapped a hand to his face. "Tell me you know how we gank them?"

"Yeah, I think so but these aint your garden variety Taniwha." Bobby told him, voice serious and Sam began hastily scribbling notes.

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Dean slid behind the wheel of the Impala and ran his hands over the steering wheel. "That's better, baby." He crooned and grinned at the rumble of the engine as he turned her over and pulled out of the tow yard. It had taken a nerve wracking two hours to get out, hook up the Impala, drag it back and then find four tires Dean was happy with. Two hours longer than he wanted to leave Sam alone in the same city with a guy happy to hire killers. He pushed the speed limit, dodging the frequent golf cart riding locals back to the town hall where he'd left Sam under protest. He'd been adamant that he could take care of himself. There'd been no mistaking the temper under his calm face; Sam was getting sick of being coddled and Dean couldn't blame him. He pulled the Impala up in front of the Town Hall and parked. He growled when he saw his little brother sitting on a bench in front of the building in clear view. Dean waited while Sam walked over and got in the car then fixed him with a glare.

"Way to be safe, Sam." Dean said angrily. "What if there'd been another sniper? You gave him a clear damn shot!" His voice was rising and Sam just looked at him, brows arched. "What? You just forget every damn thing you were taught?"

"Dean. I was fine." Sam said calmly and settled back in the seat with a stack of papers in his lap. "Look at the bench. It's under a tree and the sun was behind me. Anyone wanting to take a shot had to see through the damn tree and the sun glare first." He rolled his eyes at Dean. "Give me some credit."

Dean fumed but reigned in his temper. He did glance over at where Sam had been sitting and had to admit as he looked up above the bench; it had been a fairly protected place. He didn't admit it aloud however, settling for another angry glance as he started the car and pulled away. "You find anything useful in there?"

Sam stared at him a moment and then shook his head at his brother's temper. "A little. Bobby called. Our creature has a name. It's a Taniwha."

"That's a new one." Dean turned and realized they were about to pass in front of Molhoney's building. He made a quick left to avoid it, not wanting to risk being seen by the wrong people.

"Bobby found a Cuhilla legend about it. Apparently, about fifty years or so before the flood the Cuhilla were having some land disputes with the local white men so their Chief and the Shaman got together with their warriors to come up with a defense." Sam pulled out a page of notes to glance at it. "They tried calling on their gods for help and Bobby says the facts are sketchy here but it looks like something answered and offered them protection for a price."

"Lemme guess. Human sacrifice." Dean groaned. "It's always human sacrifice."

"Well sort of. Whatever it was they called wanted two lives." Sam glanced over at him. "They were desperate and two of the warriors offered themselves up to save their people." He paused. "They were brothers." He saw Dean's face tighten. "The…well whatever it was accepted and turned them into Taniwha. There's two of them Dean."

"Awesome." Dean stared out at the road as they drove, letting the information slide around his brain. They were hunting brothers. "I'm guessing that wasn't the deal they were hoping for."

Sam shook his head. "They were told that as long as the Cuhilla held their land the Taniwha brothers would protect them. Then fifty some years later the whole valley flooded and forced the survivors to move. Bobby thinks the Taniwha went dormant after that."

"Until our buddy, Molhoney got a bug up his ass and woke 'em up." Dean scowled. "I really wanna hurt that guy."

"Bobby thinks he had to have called them somewhere near Salton Sea." Sam pulled out another paper. "Lore says you have to pierce the Taniwha's heart, cut off the head and burn the remains separately to kill them so they stay dead."

"This sucks." Dean said softly, still thinking about the brothers. He could understand why they'd made the deal. They just wanted to protect their people and now thanks to a rich jackass he and Sam were going to have to kill them. He couldn't help but feel a certain connection which quickly turned to anger, wondering if they had left family behind when they made their deal; wives…children.

"It's not the same, Dean." Sam said softly over the rumble of the engine as they headed back to Bombay Beach. He had followed Dean's thoughts unerringly through the pained looks that crossed his face.

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean said tersely. "I do not wanna have this conversation with you."

Sam sighed and turned to look out the window as the desert flew past. He'd known as soon as Bobby had told him that Dean was going to be upset by the circumstances. He had a well-earned rage about people making deals and the ones left behind. He'd save what he'd learned about Molhoney for when they reached the relative safety of the motel and let Dean cool off for a while.

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_To Be Continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

_**CHAPTER 6** _

Dean stood in the door of the Bombay Beach bar staring out at Salton Sea. Dutch puttered behind him back and forth putting sandwiches and beers in a basket for him to take back to their motel room. He'd dumped Sam on a bed and yanked the curtains shut at the clear signs of a brewing migraine on his brother's face. He was frankly surprised Sam hadn't been laid out with one yet what with the monsters jacking around in his head.

"Not monsters." Dean muttered, watching the sunlight sparkle on the water beyond the canted pier. He wondered if they were out there somewhere watching and why they didn't just suck the whole place under. He turned to look about the little community, scowling. "What makes you so special?" He asked aloud of the town.

"Pardon?" Dutch came up behind him. "You talkin' to yerself, son?"

"Why don't they eat everyone here?" Dean asked, suddenly fervent as Dutch pressed the basket into his hands.

"Why doesn't what eat us? Son, you aint makin' any sense." Dutch frowned, thinking Dean must be suffering sun stroke.

"Never mind. Thanks." Dean took the basket and set a quick stride back to the motel. He had an idea now, the scattered bits of information coming together in his head. He pushed through the door and then stopped cold at the sight of Sam coming down the stairs. "Didn't I tell you to stay in the room?"

Sam shook his head. "Dude, I think I know why the Taniwha don't attack Bombay Beach. We need to find Marnie."

Dean's jaw dropped and then he chuckled. "You reading my mind again, Sammy?"

"Huh?" Sam asked, confused and looked quickly away from the bright light streaming in through the door.

"Nothing. I had the same thought." Dean set the basket on the counter. "Saw her when I left, she was heading back that way." He pointed further in to the motel and led the way.

"I realized there had to be a reason Molhoney was so interested in her grandfather's possessions." Sam said as he followed Dean.

"So did I. That with the fact they haven't raided this place for snack food." Dean looked in each room they passed and finally stopped. "Marnie! Hey, we need to ask you something." He stepped into a large room that looked like an oversized dining room with tables scattered around, chairs upended on top of each and the walls were lined with shelves cluttered with knick knacks and other bric-a-brac.

"Afternoon boys." Marnie smiled at them from an over-stuffed chair in the corner where she'd curled up with a book and a large fan blowing across her. "What can I do for ya?"

"It's about your Granddad." Dean said while Sam drifted over to the shelves. "Dutch told us Molhoney was digging around your granddad's belongings. Where was he exactly?"

"In here." Marnie set her book aside and stood. "Rifled my shelves like he owned the place." She smirked. "Before I turned Granddad's shotgun on him and scared him off."

"Do you know what he was looking for?" Sam asked and turned to give her a smile. "It's important."

Marnie shrugged and went to stand beside Sam and look over the collection. "I honestly don't know. Granddad collected all sorts of odds and ends." She chuckled. "Most of its junk I suppose but I never could bring myself to get rid of it."

"Probably saved this whole town." Sam told her seriously and turned back to the shelves and his inspection.

"Say what?" Marnie looked back to Dean. "What's he talkin' about?"

"There's something out there, Marnie." Dean said and smiled reassuringly. "It's been killing the tourists but leaving Bombay Beach alone. It's never attacked here so we started to wonder why."

Marnie's mouth dropped open in surprise. "So, you think something of Granddad's is what…keeping it away?"

"Has to be." Sam said, distracted as he focused on a shelf of distinctly Indian artifacts. "And that's why Molhoney was so interested."

"He wanted to find it and get rid of it." Dean scowled. "He didn't want Bombay Beach protected."

"Why that smarmy son of a bitch." Marnie growled. "I should have filled his ass full of buckshot."

"Wish you had." Dean said with feeling. "You find something?"

Sam nodded and reached to the back of the shelf. He pulled out a stoppered vase covered in writing Dean had never seen before but that made Sam's eyes light up. He held it out carefully and turned it in the light. "I think this is it. These symbols. They're tribal. I've seen them in some of Bobby's books. I'm pretty sure they're for protection and that…" He pointed to a stylized drawing of some sort of large lizard. "Is the Taniwha. Looks disturbingly familiar."

Marnie looked at the vase with wondering eyes. "So, all those stories he used to tell me when I was a kid…they were real." She shook her head. "Well hell's bells. What do I do with it now?"

"Keep it safe." Sam said seriously and handed it to her. "Put it somewhere no one will find it and keep it safe. Without this…"

"That I can do." Marnie took it from him and cradled it in her arms. "I'll make sure that asshole Molhoney never gets his hands on it."

"So its range is limited." Sam said as Marnie left the room. "The Taniwha had no trouble coming in to the pier but couldn't follow us on land inside the town." He put a hand to his head to massage his temples and the pain beating there.

"Too bad we can't take it with us when we go hunt these things." Dean took Sam's arm and turned him back toward the door. "Come on. I got lunch."

"I'm fine." Sam argued but Dean gave him a light shove to move.

"Sure you are. So, how about we eat outside?" Dean said and grinned. "Lovely sunny day out there."

Sam slowed as they reached the lobby and the sun still streaming in the door. Just looking at it made his head scream and he groaned. "Ok, lunch. Upstairs."

"That's what I thought." Dean grabbed the basket on his way past and followed his brother up the stairs.

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"Molhoney's a front." Sam said from where he lay sprawled on the bed, reveling in the semi-darkness of their room. Dean had pulled the curtains and cranked the air conditioner. The threatening migraine was beginning to back off and he could think clearly again. "The guy doesn't exist on paper or anywhere else beyond a couple years ago when he just appears with the company and plans for Bombay Beach."

"So who is he and what the hell is he up to?" Dean polished off the last of the sandwiches with a beer and sat back, contented.

"I've got a theory." Sam cracked his eyes to look at him. "But it's kind of screwy."

Dean snorted. "Like that's anything new for us. So? Spill."

"There's a legend about a shipwreck." Sam smirked at the look on Dean's face. "Yes, in the desert. It was supposed to have been a Spanish Galleon carrying a fortune in gold bullion. This was back in the sixteenth century before the Salton Sea was cut off from the gulf and dried out."

"Treasure. You have got to be kidding me." Dean groaned. "So how exactly is he gonna find it?"

"I'm thinking that's what the drilling is for." Sam sat up carefully and frowned. "If he drills in just the right place into the fault line, he could cause a quake, drain the sea. It'd be a catastrophe and give him his best chance of locating the wreck."

"I knew I hated that guy." Dean took his gun out and checked the clip. "I got a few choice words for him about hiring some yahoo to cut up my baby's tires." He slid the gun away with a satisfied smile. "So this whole town is probably sitting on the perfect spot he needs to drill into."

"Yeah." Sam leaned his head back, closing his eyes as colored spots danced across his vision; a sign the migraine had not completely gone away. "I wonder who he was before all this."

"Don't matter." Dean stood and checked the curtains at the windows, making sure no light was making it through before turning the A/C up another notch and saw Sam's face relax slightly. He went back and picked up the notes Sam had made on the phone with Bobby. "Get some sleep. We'll go find these things once the sun's down."

"Their nest has got to be in the abandoned resort." Sam's voice was low so as not to make his own head hurt. "Molhoney would have wanted to call them close to the town to make sure they went after the right victims."

"Bet he wasn't counting on them being protected." Dean muttered and pulled the weapons bag over. He'd kill the few hours until nightfall cleaning the guns.

"Dean." Sam lifted his head. "I don't think we have to kill them." He saw the hard look pass over his brother's face. "Listen. They were sleeping peacefully down there until Molhoney woke them up. If we can find the altar he used to raise them, I think I can put them back to sleep."

Dean stared at him. "Sammy." He shook his head and then sighed. "We'll see but I don't think they're just gonna wait around patiently while we try and figure it out." He bent to start pulling guns out of the bag, laying them on the table and avoided the sad expression in Sam's eyes. "You gotta be prepared to gank them if we have to."

"I know, Dean." Sam laid back in defeat. He closed his eyes and let his mind run through the possibility of using the link he had to the Taniwha to protect them, convinced there was a way.

Dean listened to his brothers breathing even out into sleep and glanced over at him. He understood how Sam felt, he really did but he couldn't help the anger he felt at the Taniwha brothers as well. He figured they had to have left someone behind and as someone recently left behind…he shook his head. His father's last words played through his mind for the millionth time and made him flinch. He wanted to speak to him again, to somehow find him and ask him how he could do this to him. Sam would have been better off with his father, he felt sure of that. Never more sure than after the past few days where he hadn't been able to protect his little brother. He felt like a failure. Dean looked over to Sam's sleeping form once again, face softening and rolled his eyes.

"Ok, kiddo." Dean said softly. "We'll try it your way first."

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Dean and Sam walked softly around the outside of the old resort, taking care to keep their footfalls as light as possible. Dean had one eye on his brother in case the creatures should make another attempt to screw with his head. The hulk of the resort rose up above them while the lights of Bombay Beach twinkled in the distance. They reached the front of the dilapidated building and paused to peer around the corner.

Most of the windows in the resort had been shattered over the decades. The outside of the building was brown after so many years of being blasted by sand and crusted with layers of sea salt. They could hear the soft sounds of Cranes nesting somewhere above them, settled in for the evening. Sam looked out to the sea and the calm surface beneath the moonlight. He wondered if the Taniwha were out there somewhere looking for prey or if they would stumble on them inside. Dean tapped his shoulder and Sam nodded, moving stealthily beside him into the open and toward the nearest door.

Dean stepped through the open doorway. The door itself had been knocked from its hinges and lay on the floor inside covered over in a layer of sand. "Up or down?" He whispered and turned to look at him.

"Down." Sam said surely.

Dean nodded and led the way back into the building. The first floor was a mostly open affair and surprisingly cluttered still with furniture as though the people had left in the midst of some calamity rather than just having picked up and moved on. Overturned tables and chairs scattered the floor space. Chaise lounges bare of cushions rested against the walls in haphazard piles with tables; the victims of the last flood no doubt. Paintings so crusted in salt they couldn't be identified hung askew on the walls. As they neared the back wall, two Cranes were startled from behind an upended cabinet and squawked as they flapped past the brothers and out the front of the building.

Sam gave a sheepish look to Dean as his nerves settled from the surprise and got the same grin from his brother. "Stairs should be back that way." Sam said quietly and gestured toward a door half choked with sand. He could hardly believe the Taniwha hadn't been alerted to their presence yet, sure as he was the nest was here. He checked over his shoulder as Dean stepped through the door, relieved to see nothing but moonlit sea behind them.

Dean's nerves were on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. So far it had been too easy for his tastes. He went quickly across the smaller room; some sort of office space from all the desks crashed together in the back corner and then sighed when he saw the opening of the stairs beneath them. "Sam." He called softly and set his shotgun aside to grab the first of the desks, Sam going quickly to the other side.

It took them several, nerve-wracking minutes to clear the head of the stairs with the desks clanging so loudly in the silence. Each time they flinched, diving for their guns and waiting, ears straining only to finally nod and relax when nothing happened. Dean took hold of another desk, lifting it clear with Sam's help and then cringing in anticipation when the final desk beneath it was dislodged to fall into the stairs.

"Oh crap." Dean breathed as it clanged and tumbled from sight with a cacophony of noise. He and Sam both scooped their shotguns up from the floor and waited; every sense alert. Minutes passed with not a sound and Dean looked around in surprise. "Oh come on. There's no way they didn't hear that."

"Maybe they're on the other side of the Sea?" Sam shrugged. "Too far away."

"Let's hope so. Come on." Dean adjusted the short sword he had strapped across his back and led the way down the stairs going as quickly as he dared.

At the bottom, a short hall turned into a cavernous chamber with a floor long gone to sand and earth. An aging, huge swimming pool sat in its center filled with sand, plants and other detritus that had been collected to turn it into a sort of nest. At the far end of the room, an open wall that must once have been glassed in let the moonlight filter through to dimly light the chamber. Sam turned keen eyes to the back however and the dim flicker of candles behind a low, tiled wall.

"Dean." Sam touched his arm and pointed. "Molhoney's altar?" He didn't wait for a response and headed for it, determined to see if there was a way to send the Taniwha brothers back to their rest.

"Sam!" Dean hissed as a sudden vibration came up through the soles of his boots. "Stop! Stand still!"

Sam turned in alarm as the rumbling grew louder, beginning to echo in the hall. He tugged the short sword free from his own back; twin to the one Dean carried and tried to watch the whole of the room at once. The sand began to vibrate at their feet.

Dean looked across to Sam and opened his mouth to tell him to get back upstairs and never had the chance. Sam was bent with his head in both hands, a look of agony on his face and then the ground between them erupted in a cloud of sand thrown into the air. A huge, dark shadow emerged and blocked his view of his brother. "Sam!" Dean shouted and fired both barrels of his shotgun into the Taniwha's back. It was huge, a row of sharp scales protruding in a line down its back. Dean circled the creature, desperate to reach Sam when he heard him scream. "Sammy!" Dean fired again and felt horror suck the breath from his chest as the Taniwha turned to face him. He saw one pale hand within the creature's maw, heard Sam's muffled voice scream again and then the Taniwha snapped its jaws closed, cutting off his little brother's voice.

"You son of a BITCH! SAM!" Dean leveled his shotgun at the Taniwha's head as it closed on him all the while the little voice in his mind was chanting: No, no, no, no, no.

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_To Be Continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

_**CHAPTER 7** _

"Sam!" Dean screamed his name, still unable to accept what had happened. The creature had eaten him; swallowed him up before his eyes and there'd been nothing he could do to stop it. A despair like nothing he'd ever felt; not even when his father died crashed through him like a tidal wave. It stole his breath and his strength. It made him want to lay down and wait for the Taniwha to eat him. He fired into the monsters face as it bore down on him, aiming for its eyes. The despair wouldn't help him save Sam but the rage…that would help him get vengeance. Dean wrapped it around him like a warm blanket; a bright, red rage that wanted blood. He drew the short sword from his back, letting the shotgun fall to the sand and stood his ground.

"Come get me you son of a bitch." Dean growled at the creature, unaware of the tears streaming down his face. He let it come to him, shifting its enormous body over the sand with the help of fins he hadn't noticed before. The Taniwha rose up before him, mouth opening wide and then it froze. It stopped above him and then it flinched, its entire body shaking and Dean heard a sound come from its open maw; the sound of gunfire.

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Sam felt himself shoved and pressed inside a dark, wet tunnel. His gun. The Sword. He'd lost them both when the pain of the creature's thoughts crashed into his mind. It was still there, crushing him beneath the weight of the Taniwha's mind. He wanted so desperately to open his mouth; to take a breath but there was no air for him to breathe. He felt something burning along the exposed skin of his hands and face. Panic ripped through him at the realization he had been swallowed whole and was now inside the Taniwha. His lungs screamed; starved for oxygen. His heart thundered in his chest and then…slowly, he realized it wasn't just his own heart he was hearing. It was something much larger and much closer. Sam struggled and fought to get his right hand behind him, his fist closing desperately around the grip of his gun as he felt himself losing the battle to breathe.

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Dean watched in shock as the Taniwha toppled to its side before him as yet another shot sounded from inside it. "Sammy?" Dean breathed, barely able to believe what he was seeing. He shook off the paralysis and darted around the Taniwha so he could see its exposed belly. The creature lay still, dead for the moment and Dean knew he needed to take its head to make sure but there was no way he could do anything without knowing first.

"Hang on, Sam." Dean stabbed the sword into the creatures belly and began pulling it back in a long line, opening the Taniwha's guts to the air. He gagged at the stench but didn't let up. When he'd opened its length, he dropped the sword and pulled out his knife instead. He didn't want to risk hurting Sam if he was still…he cut that thought off before it could finish. His mind refusing to hear that thought as he sawed through muscle and intestines. He ignored the foul stench and bile that gushed out over his hands, burning the skin as he dug inside the creature's body. Panic drove him on and he paused when his knife found something firm to catch on to. He hastily pulled the knife away and drove his hand into the hole he'd made up to his elbow and was rewarded with the feel of his brother's shoulder in his hand.

"Sammy!" Dean curled his fingers in a fierce grip on his brother and pulled. He dropped the knife and sank in his other arm until he found more of Sam to grab on to and tugged, grunting with the effort. He gave a short cry of relief when Sam emerged, sliding out of the warm, bloody mess in one fluid movement to tumble into Dean and then the ground.

"Sam? Come on, little brother." Dean bent over him and put his ear near his face but he could hear nothing; no sounds of breathing. He put shaking fingers to his neck and felt the faint thump of Sam's heartbeat. "You gotta breathe, Sam. Breathe!" Dean tipped his head back and blew a breath for him but his chest didn't rise. "Dammit!" He swiped his fingers into Sam's mouth, coming out with a gob of blood and mucus and flung it away before leaning in to give him another breath. This time Sam's chest rose and, feeling the first stir of hope, he breathed for him again. "Come on, Sammy. Please." Dean leaned back and slapped Sam's face sharply. "Dammit, Breath!" He slapped him again and sobbed in relief when Sam coughed and gasped in his first breath.

"Sam? Sam!" Dean pulled his head and shoulders into his lap. "That's it, buddy. Come back to me."

Sam gasped in air then panted and slowly realized he was no longer inside the Taniwha. The sound of Dean's voice brought him all the way back and he opened his eyes, frowning at the sickening feel of something viscous caked to his face. "Dean?" He said hoarsely and coughed again trying to clear his throat. His big brother was bent over him, holding him tightly and Sam had trouble understanding why his face was covered with the unmistakable tracks of tears. "You ok?"

Dean laughed rather than sob and nodded. "Yeah, sasquatch. I'm fine."

Sam hissed in a pained breath when Dean's hand squeezed into his shoulder. "Ow."

Dean bent to get a look and scowled at the clean cut of a knife through Sam's shirts. "Uh, sorry about that." He leaned back to look at Sam with a sheepish smile. "Did that while you were doing your Tauntaun routine." His brother chuckled and it was then Dean noticed Sam's right hand still curled tightly around his gun. "Pretty sure that's a first. Killing a monster from the inside."

"Well, isn't this touching?" A voice startled both men.

Dean jerked his head around to see Molhoney himself emerging from the stairs and narrowed his eyes dangerously at the gun steadily trained on them. "Molhoney." Dean purposefully kept his position, keeping himself between the madman with a gun and his brother.

"How ever did you manage to kill one?" Molhoney stepped further into the pool area, looking wide eyed at the carcass in front of him. "I'm impressed." He turned to grin at Dean. "I'm still going to kill you but I'm impressed."

"Gee, I'm so proud." Dean dead-panned, holding Sam still when he tried to move. He silently cheered his brother as he saw him slide his right hand with the gun out of sight. "Tell me you weren't doing all this for some mythical treasure. You can't be that stupid."

"Stupid?" Molhoney stared at him and shook his head. "Billions. There's billions out there under that damn sea just waiting to be found and I happen to have the vision to find it."

"And kill…how many…in the process?" Sam asked, still breathless. "The drilling. You're gonna cause a…an earthquake."

Molhoney shrugged. "What can I say? I've never been burdened with an overabundance of conscience when it comes to getting what I want." He waved the barrel of the gun at the brothers. "You're Hunters aren't you? I thought you might be when I saw you in my office that day."

Dean's eyes widened in surprise. "You know about us? Who the hell are you?"

"Today I'm David Molhoney." He smiled knowingly. "Once I have my gold I'll be someone else." He chuckled. "Someone filthy rich. Wont that be nice?"

"We're happy for ya." Dean said; his voice low and tensed as Molhoney rounded them so he could see Sam and the belly of the Taniwha.

"He doesn't look so good." Molhoney smirked and lowered the gun to point at Sam's chest. "Start with him I suppose.

Sam felt Dean tense above him, his arm tighten across his chest and decided they were out of time. He whipped his right arm up and fired before Molhoney had even registered the movement. The man stumbled back as the bullet took him high in the chest. Dean was out from under him like a shot and tackled the man to the sand. They rolled further away and Sam held his breath until Dean came up standing with Molhoney's gun in his hand and the other man wheezing and keening in pain where he lay.

"Nice shot, Sammy." Dean said proudly and went back to his brother. "You stand?"

"Dunno." Sam rolled to his side, mindful of the slice in his shoulder and waited while the ground rolled beneath him a few times before settling. "Yeah, I think so."

"Good, come on." Dean slipped his arm under his shoulder and pulled him up.

"Dean." Sam closed his eyes as his head began to pound, raising a hand. "Dean, its coming. The other Taniwha."

"Shit! Come on." Dean half dragged him to the rear of the facility, around the low wall they'd seen when they entered. Behind was the altar they'd been looking far. Dean lowered Sam to the ground beside it as he moaned in pain. "Just hang on, Sam."

"It knows." Sam ground out through the pain. "Dean, it knows."

Dean nodded and stepped back out into sight, looking to the dead Taniwha. It knew its brother was dead and it was coming for them.

"I can do this." Sam said behind the wall, pulling himself up the altar until he could see it. "Just…gimme a minute."

Dean watched him study the altar, the candles, crystals and Cuhilla runes inscribed on it, desperate to find a way to send it back to sleep rather than kill it. "You do that, Sam." Dean told him gently and then stepped further away. He scooped the short sword from the ground and waited, knowing there would be no sleep for the other creature and not wanting to hurt Sam by telling him.

The sands began to vibrate again, a rumbling noise following something as it neared beneath the ground. Out beyond the empty windows something large blew water into the air just off shore and then disappeared. It was coming and it was pissed.

Sam struggled to see through the monster's vision. He needed to focus on the altar; find a way to send it back. He could feel it nearing and worse; he could feel an overwhelming rage in the creature's mind. It wanted vengeance and underlying that was a hopelessness that made his heart ache. Sam closed his eyes for a moment and tried to focus. He tried to reach the Taniwha or rather the man it used to be. He wanted…needed to explain; to apologize for killing his brother. For just a moment he felt his thoughts get through and what greeted him was a burst of white hot anger so powerful it rocked him back into the ground with a cry of agony.

Dean heard Sam cry out but couldn't risk moving. The creature was too close and as his worry for his brother won out, the Taniwha burst through the soft sand beside Molhoney who was still wailing on the ground. He could have drawn the creature off. He could have shot at it or stamped and gotten its attention. Dean, however, was fresh out of mercy for things…or people that tried to kill his brother and so he stood still and waited for the opportune moment.

"God! Help me! Please!" Molhoney screamed as the creature turned on him. The Taniwha's massive head darted down, jaws open and scooped Molhoney from the ground. Dean watched, cringing in sympathy in spite of himself when it closed its jaws and cut the man in half.

"Ow." Dean breathed as Molhoney's legs thumped to the sand still twitching while blood flowed from the creature's mouth like water as it threw its head back to swallow the rest of him. Dean smiled grimly and raised the sword. He rushed forward, throwing all his speed into it while the monsters head was in the air leaving its throat open. He held the blade out in front of him and charged beneath it to drive the sword into its throat low, aiming for roughly where he knew the heart to be now, thanks to his impromptu dissection while saving Sam.

The Taniwha roared in pain as Dean danced out from beneath it seconds before it crashed to the sand where he'd been standing. The impact drove the sword in deeper prompting another enraged cry from the beast. Dean pulled his shotgun around and waited for the head to turn to him. He'd hit the heart. He was sure. Even as he watched the Taniwha's struggles were weakening. Its long tail pulled itself from the ground in a shower of sand and water to thrash as its powerful fins slapped into the ground. When its head turned toward Dean, he aimed and fired into the nearest eye.

He wasn't angry anymore, just resigned as he fired again and saw the light fade from the Taniwha's eyes finally as its body slowly stilled in the moonlight. He risked walking closer until he was standing beside it and rested a hand on its head for a second. "Sorry." Dean said softly and then turned away.

He found Sam pulling himself up with the help of the altar again. "Sam. You okay?"

Sam nodded weakly. The last round of visions from the creature had taken what little he had left. "I'm ok. Just let me do this."

"Sam." Dean said sadly and took his arms. He helped him stand and turned him to look out at the pool. "It's over."

Sam stared in shock to see the second creature as dead as the first. He had been so sure he could save them. He'd needed to save them. "Why, Dean? It didn't have to die!"

"Yeah he did, Sam. We killed his brother." Dean stared sadly at the two dead creatures. "Doesn't matter why. We killed him." He glanced over at Sam's face and then away. "He would have hunted us down and slaughtered us right before he took his own life."

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "You can't know that."

"Yeah I can." Dean tossed the sword down beside the Taniwha. He hitched Sam's arm on his shoulder and started him back toward the stairs. "It's what I'd do."

That simple sentence delivered so calmly rocked Sam. He went quietly as Dean helped him up the stairs, righted one of the lounge chairs and deposited him in it with strict instructions to stay put while he finished the job. Sam watched numbly as Dean vanished back down the stairs and understood then why Dean had been crying when he'd woken up below. It had only taken minutes for Dean to think him dead and plan his own death after killing the thing that killed him. It was the second time he'd had to face Dean's desire to die if Sam was gone and he wasn't any more comfortable with it now. He understood. He felt completely the fear Dean carried of facing the world alone without his brother at his side but it didn't make it any easier to take. He knew now, truly knew that the only thing that had kept Dean alive after their father's death was him.

Dean jogged back into sight up the stairs as a warm, orange light followed him; fires from the Taniwha bodies burning below. Dean dropped beside Sam and studied his pale face. "How you feeling?"

"I'm ok." Sam told him and smiled for him. "Head's killing me and uh…" He rotated his shoulder stiffly.

"Yeah." Dean rubbed a hand through his hair. "You look like a horror movie reject dude." He smirked at the disgusted look on Sam's face as he took in his own appearance. "Let's get you back to the motel and cleaned up before any of that crap gives you the damn plague or something."

Sam nodded and let Dean pull him back to his feet. His hands and face were still burning lightly from the Taniwha's stomach acid, his shoulder aching from the shallow cut of his brother's knife and his head, well…he was close to crying from the pounding pain that was near to making his eyes cross.

"Gah I want a shower." Sam groaned as they crossed the debris strewn floor and emerged back out into the night. "Now."

Dean tightened his grip on Sam as they staggered back toward the lights of Bombay Beach. "Sammy. Don't ever do that to me again." Dean said softly. He cursed himself the moment the words left his mouth but he couldn't help it.

"I'm ok, Dean." Sam said and smiled. "You saved me."

Dean flinched at his choice of words echoing their father but he nodded and pushed the fear away for another time. "Can't believe I had to cut you out of that damn thing." He tried for a lighter mood. "Dude, that was disgusting."

"Next time you can get swallowed." Sam said ruefully.

Dean took a good look at him in the moonlight and laughed. "Not if I gotta come out looking like something a vulture threw up. Eww dude."

"Jerk." Sam said with a roll of his eyes, instantly moaning at the pain it cost him.

"Bitch." Dean tossed back and with that simple exchange, felt his reality fall back into place. "Think you've got intestines stuck in your hair."

"Aw god." Sam groaned, feeling nausea creep up on him and resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair while his brother chuckled happily. "I will hurt you." He warned and swallowed hard as the evening breeze blew the smell of himself back into his nose. "On second thought…" Sam stopped mid-sentence, hastily bent and couldn't help the vomit that spewed forth. If he got any pleasure from the fact it covered Dean's boots, he wisely kept it to himself while his big brother cursed but didn't let go of him.

"Dude!" Dean shouted in disgust. "Aw man! That is just…that's just wrong." He held on to Sam while he spewed, keeping him from falling even as he wanted to dance out of the way.

Sam straightened finally with effort, letting Dean take most of his weight. "Karma." He said gruffly and gave a lopsided smile up at Dean.

"I Han Solo'd your ass out of a giant lizard!" Dean protested and got them walking again. "How do I deserve puke shoes?"

Sam grinned in the semi-darkness. "Make me puke I make you pay."

"I'm gonna remember this, you know." Dean warned though he laughed. "Oughta dump your ass out of the car next chance I get."

"Hey." Sam looked up at him. "You call Bobby yet?"

"Huh. No." Dean shook his head. "I'll call him in the morning."

"You don't think he might be worried?" Sam asked with a smirk and then burst out laughing when Dean's phone started ringing, the rock music tones shrilling out of his pocket. "Bet you ten I know who it is."

"Shut up." Dean groaned and fished out his phone. He flipped it open and ignored Sam's laughter as Bobby's irritated voice yelled out at them. He scowled for Sam's benefit but in truth, it settled him to know all his family was safe…even the jolly green idiot cackling beside him.

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_The End._


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